2013.09.21 - The Most Holy Knifefight
Last time, on Strange Princess Adventures! Inside, Amethyst has found a bucket from some mop closet. A trail of holy water follows her to the altar, where the final sigil was etched in chalk. The princess raises the bucket above her head, inspects her target, and then pours a gallon of forgiveness on it. She stands over her work, snarling and red eyed. "Who knew angels were such dicks?" A seismic thud rises from the foundation. The windows go dark. Amethyst exhales, unsteady on her feet. Light headed. She tosses the bucket over her shoulder. It clatters somewhere behind the altar. "Heaven looked really boring, anyway." "The ancient Egyptians, I suppose," Strange dryly responds, idly inspecting the Princess' handiwork as he walks down the aisle. "I apologize; I knew that our chances were slim, but--" The sudden upheaval interrupts his apology and flings him into a nearby pew, where he grips the seat in front of himself to avoid being tossed around any further. When things settle down, he exhales, lifts his head, and tries not to let the disappointment of once more sitting in a dim, abandoned cathedral rather than a celestially illuminated sanctuary linger too long. "--hh--there are other options at our disposal," he promises, retaking his feet and briskly moving up to the altar in case Amethyst needs supporting. "This is just one door that has been closed to us; don't let their fear of what they can't understand disturb you." "I don't even understand this!" Amethyst snaps. She flushes red and slaps a candle from the railing. By reflex, the princess raises her hands to show empty palms. No, officer, I'm not carrying any weapons. She turns away from Strange and walks in no particular direction, shaking her head. "I'm sorry. Every time someone tells me about this, they just say the vaguest fucking things." She crosses her arms. "I was doing really well with not swearing. It's not becoming. Of royalty, I guess." "I can only imagine your frustration," Strange muses, looking from the fallen candle to the enraged princess. He remains near the altar while she paces, hands sliding into their opposing sleeves. "but if it's any comfort, I do know, without a doubt, that you are not the first person to struggle with the question of who he or she is; the nature of its answer may ultimately be--unique--where you are concerned, but the rest of us would be no more equipped to provide it if you were merely a girl, and not a goddess." After taking a moment to think about it, he winces at himself and tacks on, "Still: I appreciate the--epic--fail--of this situation; I am truly, truly sorry." "I--" Amethyst lowers her head. She giggles, but is too tired to be energetic about it. "Christ, doc, epic fail? Really?" The princess turns around. She's looking up toward the ceiling. "Does that count as taking the Lord's name in vain? Whatever." The light returns. Or--not really. It streams through only one of the stained glass windows, and it is fiery red, revolving as if attached to a wheel. Outside, a trumpet sounds a single, pure note. It pierces the building. There is no way that's natural. Amethyst's eyes widen. "Oh my god, they are exactly like the cops." Tonight! Our Lady of Salvation is a community church and looks it every inch. It is a squat, ugly building with a brown metal roof that was probably built in the 70s. At 3:08 AM, there's no one in the streets. The neighborhood is quiet, except for the sound of Princess Amethyst of Gemworld kicking the front door open. Amethyst sprints down the stairs to the sidewalk, skidding to a stop once she hits the wet asphalt of the street. Her mist silk ribbon lashes about her, irritated. Her expression is closer to disbelief. The sky is fire and life. Wheels within wheels turn above the church, casting red-gold light with each revolution. Eyes blink in sequence along their rims, briefly hiding fiery, searching pupils. As the wheels intersect each other, the spaces between them reveal another world: the inside of a tower, ascending beyond sight, ringed with archways. A figure stands in each archway, faces lifted to the unseen ceiling The princess reaches out, her hand trailing purple sparkles. She grasps something invisible--until she pulls, drawing a long purple sword from the air. It glitters dangerously in the alternating dark and light and does not change hue despite the red-gold color cast by the wheel. "Are we doing this, doc?" Amethyst shouts, eyes wide and focused on the wheel. She spares the briefest of glances up to the church steps, looking for Strange so she can read his expression. Maybe he won't be afraid. "Are we really doing this?!" The image of the tower inside the wheel is filled with more men, descending with wings extended but motionless. They pass through the revolving spokes, bringing a little bit of heaven to the Bronx. Only the worthy see revelation. Worthy of salvation, or damnation. No one wakes up. No one in the city notices. Not even when the chorus starts. "HOLY, HOLY, HOLY IS THE LORD OF HOSTS! THE WHOLE EARTH IS FULL OF HIS GLORY!" "They have their own theme song!" Amethyst hisses, wiggling the fingers of her free hand. "Fine! I'll do the title sequence." She points upward. A thin purple beam springs from her fingertip, joining the divine beams. It skewers the clouds and bursts, scattering fairydust in the night sky. The purple star-specks swirl into the distance. It is not long after the flare goes up, that Booster Gold arrives. He floats in mid-air and regards the situation with an expression of faint bemusement, before he drops down close to Amethyst. "Princess," he says, by way of greeting. "I was just getting ready to go out and patrol but then..." He gestures at the supernatural fireworks, and seems to feel no further need to explain why he is investigating. "Extra-dimensional incursion? I dunno, I'm honestly just guessing." He'd been on patrol in the streets when a magic sparkly will-o-wisp landed on his shoulder. "What, are you kidding me? I'm supposed to follow -you- to... what, doom? Get off my shoulder, already," Roy retorts, trying to brush it off. It was insistent, though, and tilting his head, the young archer suddenly has the sense that it was connected to that -thing- from a month ago - the one where some young woman rode through the air on a pegasus from nigh on high. Tsk. "Fine, I'm coming along, but you stop sparkling at me. I'm not doin' a re-play of Twilight, okay?" Pulling off his hat, Roy swipes at the magic sparklies. "Just glow hot or cold, okay?" And so when he's finally where the sparklie wants to lead him, Roy is already pulling his hat off fanning his head. "Okay, I got it! Oh, hey! The sparkly was right, it -was- you after all," the redheaded agent greets, waving at Amethyst. "So... we're dealing with -what- now?" The Bronx isn't an area Axiom usually patrols but he'd been visiting a friend so he was in the area. When a few sparkles landed on him, Axiom was a little surprised but went along with where they were directing him. He was never one to ignore a call for help. He spots the disturbance in the sky before he sees Amethyst and the others. "Oh there is n-no way that's good..." he trails off, making his way down to street level via a fire escape. He'll be down there in a moment. "In our time of need, let the Eye of Agamotto be revealed!" Doctor Strange exclaims as he soars out of the church on the princess' heels. Golden light radiates from the very air before the cathedral's doors, dwarfed in intensity as it streams into the air to meet the ascending sorcerer. "They're leaving us with precious few options, Princess!" he exclaims as the streaking light gathers into a large disc on his chest; his dress shirt and overcoat briefly ripple, and by the time the shining disc is replaced with a chunky gold amulet, his earthly garb is also gone, in favour of a billowing tunic and flowing red cape. Rather than draw any nearer to the descending angels, though, Strange wheels back around to land beside Amethyst once he's properly dressed. "You are, I'm afraid, looking at the results of our lapse in judgement," he grimly says to Roy as his feet touch the ground. "We attempted to hold court in Heaven, and Heaven was displeased; this, I'm afraid, is the result." Glancing from the SHIELD agent to the Asgardian princeling, to the man of tomorrow to the demigodess, he adds, "If any of you are considering prayer before this begins--I would suggest thinking twice." Oh wow heroes work fast. When the next figure out of the sky is Booster Gold, Amethyst smiles, exhaling and too excited to actually laugh. She feels like she's alive twice, about to jump out of her skin. "Booster! It's--yeah! Extra-dimensional incursion!" Oh my god the Legion must handle this like every other Tuesday, this must be like trash pickup for them. She looks over her shoulder. It's that guy from the museum! "Extra-dimensional incursion!" The robed, winged men land softly on golden slippers. There are six and they are unarmed. A seventh descends, holding a silver sword. He grips it upside down so that the pommel, a brilliantly glowing sphere, is heavenward. The landed angels clasp their hands together as if in prayer. Maybe it is prayer. Who knows how angels work, anyway? Only the seventh, still floating angel makes notice of the newcomers. He speaks: "The conjuror Stephen Vincent Strange and the abomination are in trespass of the Most Holy. Flee, children of God, flee--" The floating angel thrusts the hilt of his sword outward. The air shimmers as if filled with gasoline fumes, rippling and warping to the point that a titanic figure is able to just step out of it like it was a curtain. Its ox-hooves click on the pavement in odd cadence, attached as they are to a lion's body. Its four heads voice themselves: a man's shout, an ox's bellow, a lion's roar, and an eagle's cry. "--or be judged!" The landed angels spread their palms, now holding weaponry born from the same gas-fume ripples. It looks like Heaven is a big fan of the crusade era. "Um," Amethyst grips her sword with both hands. "Who wants the monster? I can do monsters, I think." "Oh hey, Dr. Strange, cool." Booster Gold grins affably at the sorcerer. "Yeah, it's cool, I'm--" He does not finish this sentence, however, as the angelic host settle into place. He raises his voice as he responds instead to the floating angel, "Actually, I guess -technically- I'm an atheist. No offense." Booster waves his hand as if to brush aside this factoid, flying forward so he is at level with the hovering angel. "Look. Apparently these guys upset you, but do we -really- have to slug it out to make you feel better? Because I -am- going to defend them from you. I just think it's fair to give you a chance to either talk things out or go back to where you came from." "Never been one for prayers," Roy replies, already drawing an explosive arrow to notch on his bow. "I don't suppose we're going to be damned forever? Good thing I was raised in a different belief system, so there's already a lien on my soul. Although I -really- hope the princess's ticked off the -right- people, because if we're fighting the wrong side..." In uniform and armored, Axiom approaches the assembled heroes and offers a quick smile and a wave. "Hold c-court in Heaven?" he asks, blinking a few times. "What w-were you trying to do?" he asks. He's no the praying type so there's no comment. The princeling watches the angels with a frown. The frown only grows deeper when Amethyst is called an Abomination. The power booster moves to put himself between the princess and the angels. "I'm with Booster. We don't n-need to fight. Let's talk about this." "It would seem that we conjurors and abominations aren't the only ones who understand the value of discourse," Strange tersely says, hands curling into arcane forms as the towering angel steps into existence. His eyes are locked on the host's herald, though, rather than its terrifying champion; he doesn't hold much hope for it being swayed by his powers of reason. "There's still time to take this back--to show mercy and understanding, rather than mindless wrath. To spare these people--" He sweeps an arm out, indicating the buildings surrounding the cathedral "--the horror of bearing witness to what could otherwise transpire." The hovering angel narrows his eyes, his timeless face devoid of wrinkles. Two of the landed angels spring into the air, darting at Booster from opposite directions. One, carrying a flail (apparently morning stars didn't go out of style), attempts to wrap his weapon around the man's neck and pull him away. The second, carrying a sword, simply barrels straight for Booster's center of mass. They are supernaturally heavy, despite being lithe youths in white robes. The other angels act simultaneously. They are fast and do not hesitate; each of their movements is sure and swift as if they were following a preordained course of action. Maybe they are. Another two, armed with a sword and spear respectively, advance in lockstep to meet Axiom. The swordsman comes first, the spearman behind him and ready to strike over his shoulder. The swordsman lunges before getting too close, carried on his wings to strike from a much greater distance than expected. The spearman breaks into a run, following his cohort's strike to harry Axiom from another angle. The last two landed angels circle the flanks. They both carry curved hunting bows and have naturally selected their fellow archer as prey. As one, they draw and loose, fast as lightning--and with the force of lightning. The arrows turn to brilliant bolts of light, crashing with thunder as they strike. The hovering angel lowers himself, discounting Booster entirely now. He thrusts his pommel forward again, returning Strange's otherworldly glare. "The abomination has brought these people to witness this judgment. The abomination, and their own hearts." The pommel jewel flashes. Streams of light issue forth, zigzagging through the air like living things intent on devouring Strange's heart. "Guys?" Amethyst repeats. "OK, fine, I got monster!" The beast has already decided. It strides forward, unhurried but confident. Amethyst has time to cross the ground, screaming like it's Lord of the Rings or something. She lashes out with her magical sword--and reels back as the eagle head is suddenly clutching the blade between its teeth. "REALLY?--" is all she has time to shout before getting kicked in the chest by a cloven hoof. Oh. Hunting bows. Somehow Roy had a feeling he'd just his equivalent. Swift as they were, Roy wasn't waiting around, already moving as quickly as he could to not stand out in the open like an inviting target. And if they kept firing, Roy was still running, looking for an opening, something... just a second... and if they even slowed down to grab for more arrows in their quivers, there was going to be an explosive arrow landing in between the two of them... Axiom keeps his gaze on the angels even as the others speak. His eyes narrow too when Dr. Strange mentions people. The princeling glances around at the buildings and tenses. If these things are intending to endanger innocent people, there's even less chance of Axiom fleeing. Before he can comment, there's angels charging his way. Axiom scowls and hops back a step. He dodges the swordsman first, having practice dodging someone much faster with a sword. Dodging the spear is much less graceful, Axiom ending up rolling and stopping in a crouch. "Hey!" he takes his staff out slowly. "What are these g-guys, exactly?" he calls to Dr. Strange. "Barukh atah Adonai Eloheinu melekh ha'olam, ha'gomeyl lahayavim tovot, sheg'malani kol tob." The words float through the area carrying with them power more as if sung than said. For those that have met him the voice, and the odd tone it takes when casting magic is recognizable as belonging to the teenaged superhero Wiccan. The words themselves, those are the Birkhat Ha-Gomeyl a traditional blessing for surviving illness or danger. The spell is not much, mostly it is spread to go our around everyone on scene to try and briefly shield people from attacks or at least the first hit or so form the angels attacking them. "Why is it always the Bronx?" Wiccan wants to know. Every single time he gets that little headache from big powerful magical forces going to war or making themselves known it always happens to be in the Bronx. He is a little late to the party, mostly because he was halfway across town and not brave enough to teleport all the way to the scene when he felt that magical flair go up earlier. At the moment he is dressed in a black padded leather shirt and pants with his red shawl like cape draped around his shoulders held in place by a silver pin that seems a fusion of the traditional symbols of Loki and Thor with a silver circlet on his head and a staff carved in bluish white glowing runes in his hand. The choice he made for his spell, well mostly because he arrived on scene to see people fighting Angels of all things. "Shield of the Seraphim!" is the only response that the Doctor can muster, throwing his arms up before himself as he does so; a mystic circle blazes into existence in before his curled fingers, just in time to intercept the angel's wrath. Divine energies lash against the blue barrier, sending cracks shooting across its surface - and distorting the very air around the sorcerer - with each blow. It doesn't take long for slivers of the angel's cleansing light to find their way through those cracks, but when they do, it only takes a single searing moment for the Doctor to abandon his splintered aegis and take to the air in the hopes of evading the angel. "They--hh--are angels," he calls down to Eddie, clutching his aching chest with his left hand, while his right hastily traces silver sigils into the air. "with an utter lack of concern for our collective well-being--it falls to us to protect the innocents that dwell here!" As he continues to drift away from the hovering angel, those glowing sigils flow together, briefly forming a larger symbol before melting away into a vaguely radiant haze. "As darkness descends on glowing wings, let sleeping minds lie safely in the world of dreams; 'till we've banished these invaders from our mortal midst, I summon the Mists of Morpheus!" the Doctor intones--and if he manages to get through it all without having his heart and/or soul endangered by the angelic herald again, silver mist will spread throughout the neighborhood, ensuring peaceful(and vivid) dreams for the civilians. The angel does not, as it turns out, want to let go. The flail angel continues to wrestle with Booster while the swordsman disentangles himself. He lines up overhead, preparing to deliver judgment with a sweep of his sword. This lunge, however, is interrupted--Booster's tremendous strength is enough to overcome his attacker and turn the flail angel into the flailed angel. The swordsman goes tumbling down the street, tangled up with his cohort, who has gamely let Booster have the flail. They are fast to their feet, aided by wings as they are. The unarmed angel raises his hands, filling the air between the two with another rippling wave of gas. It burns to the touch, not physically but--well, they're angels, is it too hard to believe that it's a soul burning? The swordsman readies himself to receive Booster's charge, should the man try to close the distance. The archer angels keep up their assault, smoothly drawing arrows and firing them to thunderous effect. Yet, Roy's experience may be greater than theirs: as he looks for an opening, he discovers a discordance in their pattern. In just a few arrows, there will be a sufficient gap. One, two, three, and then Roy fires. The explosion lands closer to one angel than the other, sending him to one knee. His robe burns and blackens, though his physique is apparently too dense to be damaged in this way. The second archer angel steadies himself and does not help his fellow. Instead, he draws another arrow and fires. Midair, it splits, and splits, and splits. A dozen shafts pierce the night, though when land, they are not arrows but serpents. The snake swarm hisses with intelligent malevolence, surrounding Roy and even leaping through the air to bite. The two angels facing Axiom do not waver in their assault: noting Axiom's speed, the swordsman tries to press close and physically block Axiom with his body. Though he is not clad in armor, he clearly seems willing to engage in sword-wrestling like a knight. The spearman waits for his opening, stabbing if Axiom is ever too busy with the menacing swordsman. Wiccan's arrival does not seem to be noted by any of the combatants. He is given free reign to cast his spell, though it comes with a bizarre creeping feeling in addition to the other sensations of magic. Why is that? Oh. All the eyes on the wheel are looking at him. Well. The wheels within wheels spin faster. When they split apart, they no longer reveal the interior of a tower, but rather some bizarre storm of fire and snow. A pillar of flame bursts from one intersection, threatening to burn Wiccan alive. Tied to a stake or not, witches really do not have a good track record here. "Do not speak of well-being! Your understanding is provincial! You deny the one true will!" the floating angel booms. He raises his sword upward, the glowing pommel flashing once more. The Mists of Morpheus spread through the neighborhood--mostly. Beams of light from the herald's pommel sweep over portions of the spell. Where it touches, the mist coils back onto itself and then flows serpentine toward Strange. It is still his own magic, though he does not control it, and perhaps that will confuse his defenses. It is a choking mist now, a strangling mist. "SUBMIT!" Amethyst goes cartwheeling through the air, her sword discorporating into a cloud of sparkles as she releases it. She tumbles twice on the ground, hands clutching her chest. Wait. No broken ribs. Was that magic she felt? Did Strange save her? The cherub's eagle head cries, deprived of its chewtoy. Amethyst rises to a crouch, fingers spread in the magic community's equivalent of 'bring it, dude.' The cherubim strides forward with the same regal confidence, but one hoof does not click--it sinks. "Ha!" the princess shouts. "No one expects Transmute Rock to Mud!" She rises more fully to her feet, hair and ribbon whipping in a sudden gust of wind. Her hands dance with purple witch-light as she gestures forcefully. The street shudders and cracks, an entire section of it splitting off and rising into the air. The cherubim bellows and struggles, breaking one of its hooves free and then another, but by then it's too late. With a twirling gesture and a snap of her silken ribbon, Amethyst flips the monster and the chunk of street upside down and brings them both slamming back into the Earth. Booster Gold staggers to his feet, looking winded but holding the flail. As satisfying as it would be to use it against his attackers, he has no idea how to utilize one of these things; Booster has a brief mental image of what happens when you clobber a tetherball. Therefore, the flail gets tossed low and back, to skitter across the ground, away from the angels he is dealing with. Maybe someone else can put it to better use. "Doctor Strange... is there a way to ... de-summon them or send them back?" Booster calls out, without taking his eyes off of the pair of angels he is facing down. They clearly do not want to give up, so he flies at them, faltering again as he hits the 'burning' wall. That sends him crashing to the pavement again, a groan of agony escaping through his gritted teeth. He gets to his feet more slowly this time, unable to fly, and stalks towards the angels. It is a slow approach, and he brings his fist back, because if they elect to just stand their ground he is going to punch the sword wielder as hard as he can. "Snakes? Why did it have to be -snakes-?" Roy shouts. With the way they were slithering about, Roy had a bad feeling as he switches, dropping the bow at his feet and going for the throwing stars. Thwipthwipthwiptthwipt* How many did he catch sight of... ten? Twelve? Did it matter? His attention's on trying to deal with the snakes, backing up to try and get all the snakes eliminated before he can turn his attention back to the angel. They -were- awfully tough, weren't they? Maybe an ice arrow, if he had an opening... "Angels? They're acting more like super villains!" Axiom replies, flicking his wrist to extend his staff to about half length. The familiar magical voice gets a small smile to Axiom's face and the masked teen glances at his friend. No time for greetings though since there's an angel getting in his face. Axiom uses his Eternal forged weapon for defense, not attacking just yet. He keeps an eye on that spear as much as he can but the swordsman is the immediate concern. Seeing an opening, he flicks the staff to full length and tries to disarm the angel and knock his sword away like Sif has taught him. This leaves him open enough that the spear cuts along his unarmored arm. The teen grimaces but he's glad he avoided a full on stab. "If that will includes endangering these innocent p-people and attacking people without provocation, it's wrong you w-winged jerk!" he calls out, doing a quick mental checklist of who's in the area for boosting and mimicry. Wiccan may be a witch, but he is so much more than that as well. He is a mutant, a loving son, a good Jew, and someone that with a little help stood up to incredibly evil no more than a few weeks ago. He also just recently went through nearly every single cleansing ritual devised by man over the last few thousand years that is still used at all. The eyes of the Wheel looking at him that is...really creepy to be frank but he returns the stare as the wheels inside the wheel start to spin. Wiccan starts moving and moving fast flying through the air as he spots the realm of fire and ice behind the wheel jsut before it opens fire on him. "Forcefield, Forcefield, Forcefield!" He chants over and over again to himself as he draws power to create a bluish white forcefield around him so that he can hopefully survive if he can't outrun and outmaneuver that attack. "You know that whole suffer not a witch thing was BS right? It is supposed to be poisoner not witch!" "Man is entitled to free--" Preternatural senses and shooting pains in his chest provide Strange with a few moments of warning before his turns on him, but his best efforts take advantage of that warning with evasive maneuvering prove largely futile; it's more than capable of keeping pace with his every turn and dive. As the Mist closes in around him like a silver shroud and threatens to creep into his lungs, however, he touches two fingers to his amulet, which splits open to pierce - and eventually scatter - the stolen spell with rays of golden light. This buys him enough time to come in for a hasting landing at the foot of the cathedral's steps and answer Booster by exclaiming, "I can't be certain, but I suspect that if we can somehow disrupt the wheel--" he points to the rotating monstrosity above them. "--we might stand a chance! If nothing else, the possibility of being stranded here--" Smoky silver tendrils shoot into his nose and mouth before he can finish his thought; apparently, undoing his own spells takes a bit more work than he's accustomed to--at least, when they've been repurposed for evil. Or--good? Well, either way, Strange is grasping frantically at his throat, now, and trying his best to fight through against the black veil settling over his vision. The unarmed angel continues to summon the burning wave. It burns more and more deeply, peeling away... layers? It's difficult to tell what is supernatural emotional damage and what is just human emotion. It does not feel good, but Booster is evidently made of stronger stuff than whoever these guys smote back in the day. The swordsman steps forward, swinging his blade in a horizontal arc. It stops at Booster's neck, vibrating where it was stopped at his force field. The angel has barely enough time to widen his eyes before Booster throws a punch. He goes down hard, bouncing off the ground and leaving a spiderweb of cracks behind. He does not move afterward, remaining a pile of limp limbs and tangled robe. Very few things are immune to punching. The unarmed angel pauses, ceasing his assault to look over his shoulder at his comrade. There is honest hesitation in his face. He turns, leaving the ground and flying from Booster. The snakes are smart. After the first few are skewered, the rest take cover. However, they are also eager for blood and do not hide for long. Though Roy is fast enough to catch their flying lunges mid-air, the two bow angels have more than enough time to recover. They stalk forward, arrows nocked until they can get a clear shot on their obscured prey. The martial prowess of Asgard is evidently greater than that of Heaven. Axiom's fully extended staff is enough to catch the swordsman off guard, disrupting his plan. The spearman takes the opportunity to strike, but it does not protect his comrade. Axiom's staff glances off the Heaven-forged steel and sends it spinning from the angel's grasp. Unarmed, it lunges again with bare hands. The spearman continues to press, both heedless of Axiom's words. The Wheel sees all. The Wheel knows all. The Wheel probably knows the proper interpretation of the verses. The Wheel is not done vomiting fire on Wiccan. Its attack is relentless, flame crashing like waves on the young man's shield. It is too much. It--is stopping. The wheel revolves again as one of the angels flees from Booster. It may be distracted, somehow. "It's the mothership!" Amethyst calls out while magically shaping the ground to be a more firm prison for the cherubim. "Don't you have, like, future bombs or something?!" The ground rumbles. Beneath the streets, a lion roars and a man shouts. Amethyst backs away, drawing her sparkling sword once more from the air. An eagle cries. Amethyst frowns and waves a hand over the blade. It blossoms from a rapier into something truly Highlanderesque. She raises it and-- "--doc!" Amethyst turns and abandons her post, weaving through the chaos to the church steps. She begins to discard her poor sword again, but stops and glances down at it. That can work. The princess stops at Strange's side, looming above him with the sword above her head. She gulps for air and manages to choke out: "Hold still!" before swinging it down with all her might. Luckily, this is not her cunning plan to kill Strange and become Sorceress Supreme. Amethyst's magical ribbon cape lashes out, wrapping around her sword before it passes harmlessly through the doctor's body. The blade cleaves the rogue mist in twain. "Oh awesome, it was just like mist silk. That could have been bad." It gets bad. A golden rope wraps around Amethyst's neck, yanking her from Strange's sight. Once more she goes flying through the air, though this time at the end of a long noose extending from the herald's glowing sword pommel. Then, the cherubim explodes from the ground, triumphantly roaring with four mouths as asphalt rains down around it. Bad timing, mostly. Usually, Booster is the type of hero who banters while fighting, although at the moment he is silent. Usually too, his eyes are visible through his goggles, but right now they are opaque and hiding that part of his face. This is not a man ready for a photo-opportunity. As the angel he punches hits the ground, he goes after it, picking it up from the battered asphalt. Turning, he takes a few steps and lunges as he throws the unconscious angel at its fleeing kin, because he is just in that kind of mood right now. Trying to keep up with the flow of snakes -while- two archers were stalking him wasn't working. If he had to fend off snakes -at- the same time as being stalked... he had to change the playing field, did he? And talk about changing the playing field... Silently praying that his Navajo training -and- all the time he'd spend dodging Ollie's arrows stood him in good steed, Roy -runs- for the hungry, hungry cherubim with the mouths... trying to hop here, there, and then run -up- and over, parkour-style, hoping the snakes and the angels won't realize where they're going... An ice arrow is fired in mid-air towards the mouth he's descending towards after that, trying to plug it full so that -he- won't go in... Axiom's eyes go wide behind his mask and he taps into the faith power from his friend and any of the others that may have faith in him to access his self boosting. A pure what glow flares up around him and he uses the increase in speed and strength to his advantage. It's nowhere near the full potential of what he can reach but he hopes he can use the surprise to his advantage and jumps back. Trying to grab for the spear, he'll attempt to shove the spearman himself at the bare-handed angel and disarm him at the same time. The fire is too much, it starts pealing away the shielding Wiccan put up enough so that it collapses just before fire stops leaving him to call out in pain as he starts to sear. He lands at the ground still smoking. "That...ow." He picks himself up quickly looking around at whats going on and trying to form a plan. Of course, there is what Doctor Strange said before the mists started to choke him. Disrupt the wheel. "Fine, you want to see something interesting...how about this..." He says before starting to raise in the air and chanting. "ChaosandDisorder, ChaosandDisorder, ChaosandDisorder!" As he chants he draws energy around him and focuses it at the wheel. There is no end goal, no special intent in the spell just to cause chaos and disrupt the kind of perfect order that endless wheels spinning inside of wheels tends to represent. If this does not help, at least a little, then he is probably going to be in really big trouble when the wheel turns its attention on him without any kind of forcefield ready for it. Doctor Strange sinks to his knees as Morpheus' corrupted Mist forces air from his lungs and shadowy, half-formed nightmares into his mind. His eyes droop and flutter, barely able to remain open as he drifts further and further from the field of battle; Agamotto's Eye remains wide-open in the meantime, and even turns to watch Amethyst as she frees the Sorcerer from his sorcery. "Could have been, yes," Strange wryly replies after a fit of coughing. Massaging his throat - and trying his damndest to push any lingering 'why am i taking this biology exam in my underwear and why is my teacher shuma-gorath' anxieties to the side - he looks over at the princess to give her a wan and fleeting smile--just in time for her to be pulled violently away. "No--!" he exclaims--right as the monstrous cherubim bursts from the ground. The beast itself is going to take a lot more than a quick spell to deal with, but the raining asphalt is a different story. With a wave of his hand and a few words of Enochian, the debris becomes a multitude of flies and locusts, all of which gather into a stinging cloud that converges upon the hashmallim. The fleeing angel is almost to the horizon of the wheel within wheels when he is struck by Booster's divine missile. The two of them go flying in an arc, disappearing over some buildings. The hunting angels loose when Roy appears, but what is a bolt of lightning when Oliver Queen has shot progressively more ludicrous arrows at you? They both miss, though Roy may feel a slight tingling sensation. The snakes follow doggedly and with enough speed to worry at Roy's surprise-granted lead. When he has to pause to navigate the cherub’s personal space, they strike, hissing and leaping. Like Roy's never been shot at with snake arrows before. The cherubim bellows in protest as the overzealous snakes sink their fangs into its forelegs, just in time for the ox head to eat an ice arrow. Its jaw breaks with a crunch, its mouth more than filled with ice. Axiom once more proves his mettle: empowered by faith of an entirely different sort, he outclasses the angels in speed, power, and skill. He easily wrenches the spear free from the angel's grip, slamming the two of them together and bowling them to the ground. The wheel within wheels reveals an image of the tower interior once more. Booster takes care of the fleeing angel before he can make clean his escape. Wiccan chants. The wheels revolve again, showing fire and ice, then the tower interior, then the tower interior on fire. The wheel grinds to a halt, rotating so slowly as to not be rotating at all. The floating angel jerks the sword to the side, causing the golden rope holding Amethyst to lash about. She tears at her throat, trying in vain to get her fingers underneath the tightening noose. The floating angel is more concerned with the wheel. His mouth twists into a snarl as he looks back down to the gathered blasphemers. "You--agghh!" He howls and twists and contorts, just as uselessly as Amethyst, as the supernatural vermin cloud descends upon him. The pommel flares, light searing the wings of many but not enough. There is some slack in the rope. The princess falls to the ground. Before she hits the pavement, Amethyst gestures. There is a flash of light, a loud whistle of something traveling incredibly fast, and then there is a chunk of crystal sticking out of the floating angel's throat. He becomes very still, allowing the insects to crawl over him unimpeded. Blood courses down the front of his robe for a moment, and then he catches fire. He remains there, floating and bleeding and burning and probably dead. Amethyst coughs and chokes, working the noose off of her neck. The cherubim is angry. Whether it's the venom or recent events, its remaining three heads bellow and shriek and roar. Its leonine body ripples with muscle; it pounces forward, trampling the two archer angels as it attempts to dislodge Roy. At the unfolding of its wings, the street is filled with violent winds. The wind, like everything touched by these creatures, seems animate. When it knocks a light post loose, it is to send it crashing down on someone. When it flips a car over, it is to use it as a projectile. The cherub itself stalks and pounces, lashing out with hooves and beak and fang. Booster is taking a deep breath and giving himself a shake, as if he were clearing his head. Now that big cherubim is stomping around, and when it kicks that car into play, Booster launches himself into the air. He stretches out an arm towards Wiccan and a golden translucent bubble pops into being around the young man, a moment before the vehicle smacks into it. The deflected car is flipping up and to the side, where it gets snatched up in mid-air by Booster Gold, flying higher and bringing the already battered vehicle up and around. He brings it down as hard as he can, aiming for the cherubim's eagle-head. "Man, you guys are -jerks-," he exclaims, finally finding his voice again. "Whoa! WHOA!" Trying to grab ahold of the ox-head's horns to hold steady, Roy balances, and then tries running down its back, the better to get back to the ground quickly. Eyes widening as the car comes down for the cherubim's head, Roy decides to just skip the rest of the path, jumping off with a screaming "DAMN YOU, IDIIIOOOOOOOOT!", tumbling, trying to get out of the range of what's sure to be a collapsing cherubim... "That's enough," Axiom shoots an annoyed look at the two angels. Holding the spear, he collapses his staff and clips it back to his belt. "P-pack up your buddies and head home," he says. "You're d-done," he adds. And then there's a rampaging cherubim. Axiom's first glance is towards Wiccan to make sure he's okay. The gold bubble makes him smile but then he notices the light post flying towards the two angels he was fighting. And being the kind of guy he is, Axiom's not about to let them get smooshed even if they are enemies right now. Still tapping into his self boost power, Axiom puts himself between the angels and the light post. He grunts as the debris crashes into him but holds his ground. It's only thanks to his boost that he didn't go splat even if he is going to end up needing a helping healing hand. Wiccan is, for lack of a better word, screwed. First he goes and makes sure that Hela is gonna have something special planned for him if he ever ends up in the Asgardian afterlife, and now the Abrahamic Religions are going to be keeping him out of the better parts of their afterlife. This kind of thing keeps up he might end up immortal just because no body wants him. Of course, that is if he survives very long. Wiccan put enough into his spell to leave himself a little ont he tired side for a few moments, which is why he can only look up and really wish he was elsewhere when a car goes flying right for him. Thank Go...maybe not the right time for that so thank someone for Booster Gold. "I...so going to pay the fee to join the official fanclub after this." He says before he gets himself together again. "Right. Right." He says before starting to raise higher into the air if he can get through the protective bubble Booster put around him. "Hey, HEY ANGELS! /HE/ gave mankind free will, /HE/ gave us dominion over the Earth! Our choice, and we are saying BACK OFF! We Stand Between the Darkness and the Light. We stand between the Cnadle and the Star." While he tries to speak to the angels who, he admits, probably at this point too angry to hear a word he says Wiccan starts to gather himself for more magic really not wanting to do the whole chaos spell again, or to actually have to do an straight up direct attack on the heavenly host. He is also hoping no one is recording this because the last thing he needs is to get sued by J. Michael Stczynski. As the hashmallim burns, Doctor Strange spares a moment to stare at his own hands in mild disbelief; he didn't strike the killing blow, sure, but he is, at the very least, an accessory to angelcide--even if said angel was kind of asking for it. It really casts an uncomfortable light on all those church services his parents insisted he sit through, once upon a time. He doesn't have much time for contemplation, though; the tempestuous beating of the cherubim's wings sets his cloak flapping madly around his face and body and sends chunks of broken concrete hurtling in his direction. Both of these problems are readily enough solved by a gesture and an incantation, however--even if said incantation is barely audible over the supernatural storm; the Shield of the Seraphim was of dubious use, at best, in protecting him from the hashmallim's scouring light, but it's up to the challenge of keeping him safe from the violent winds. "Your efforts are admirable, but I'm afraid you're wasting your breath," he calls to Axiom and Wiccan as they continue trying to talk the heavenly host into backing down. After taking a deep, bracing breath, he lifts into the air; bands of light flow from the Eye to dance around his hands as he holds them out in front of himself. "They will press this fight until they have our heads or are destroyed--and neither of those outcomes is acceptable. Thus--" The light races from his hands to bear down on the stilled wheel as he continues, "--by the grace of Oshtur the Omnipotent and the wisdom of Agamotto the All-Knowing, may the wheel turn anew--" As the light streams through the middle(s) the holy structure, it does, indeed, begin to rotate--backwards. "--and restore the peace that these heavenly intruders have broken!" The cherub lashes out with its wings, but even if it was acting strategically, it would be easy for Booster to avoid their strike range. His superior mobility brings him round to the cherub's front, where the quick eagle head cries in defiance. It lashes out when Booster brings the car down, but the battle between Civic and divine beak ends with a firm victory for Honda. Booster's super strength overpowers the clamping beak; when the car is withdrawn, the eagle head hangs limp. Roy gets clear, keeping his balance despite the twisting and lashing body beneath him. A hoof lashes out in a violent kick as he leaps off. Axiom's good deed goes unnoticed. The angels have collapsed, evidently done in for the moment by Asgardian pugilism. At least at this distance, he only has to deal with debris and not the cherub itself. The floating angel floats and burns and bleeds and does not rebut Wiccan's argument. Once, long ago, a force set this wheel and the wheels within it spinning in one direction. It would have spun forever in that way. The grace of Oshtur the Omnipotent has shown Doctor Strange the way to spin such wheels in other ways. The wisdom of Agamotto the All-Knowing has taught Doctor Strange when it is time to spin such wheels in these ways. With a groan that comes from all directions, the wheel within wheels begins to rotate backward. It picks up speed until the wind is flowing into it. The cherub bellows and thrashes, hooves skittering on the ground as it is bodily lifted from the Earth and carried into the burning tower. The corpse of the hashmallim drifts in as well, adding to the pyre. The bodies of the angelic attackers follow, slipping between the wheels and disappearing. The wheel itself begins to revolve inward, one wheel disappearing within another, and then another, until the outermost wheel settles still in the air. The blazing eyes close and it dissolves into blinding light. Amethyst staggers to her feet, still coughing. Her throat is already bruising and her eyes are bloodshot. The princess manages a few unsteady steps. "H-hey, go team Strange," she ventures. She may have spent the last minute being strangled and recovering from said strangling, but she can still sense a somber moment. The golden forcefield around Wiccan fades out, so that the teen can move more freely. Booster calls down to Roy, "Sorry, dude... figured you had the whole 'agile' thing going on," followed by an urgent, "Look out!" in case he is not aware of that kicking hoof. He hurriedly flies back as the cherub gets pulled away and up, looking around and setting the battered car down on the street; it belongs to someone, after all, and probably still has their stuff inside of it. He watches as the angels get drawn in, and wonders, "...did it get all of them? I think I knocked one or two away. I hope they didn't wreck anything when they landed..." Ohhhh no he wasn't -that- agile. On the other hand, adrenaline does wonderful things to one's body when one was worried about getting squished or stomped, and the look-out warning only speeds up Roy's sense of urgency to dive forward, and then army-crawl his way out as fast as he could, glancing backwards to see if he could get up and run, at least until he was in safe range and could actually look back to see what'd taken place. "... damn. Got to hand it to that girl, she and the pornstache man don't mess around..." he mutters, surveying the damage. "That d-doesn't mean I'll stop trying," Axiom calls back. He uses the spear to deflect as much small debris as he can. When Dr. Strange's spell starts calling the angels back into the sky and the wheel turns in reverse, Axiom lets out a sigh. Leaning on the spear, he keeps using his self-boost power to take advantage of the increase in healing speed. He still needs time to recover from his injuries but they're healing now. "That's it?" It is a somber moment in deed as things began to change and the wheels spin backwards pulling the Angelic beings back into wherever they had come from. "I...it is only a waist if we give up." It is pretty much the only thing Wiccan can think about trying to do the right thing even if the people they were facing were not going to listen. Hearing Booster he nods and then shrugs. "Won't matter if they did hurt anything except themselves...Axiom? A little help?" He asks looking over at his friend waiting to see if he can get a boost before he does some magic. If, or possibly when, he gets the boost Wiccan will float over the ground a foot or two while chanting. "Wholeandfixed, Wholeandfixed, Wholeandfixed!" When the magic finally catches there will be a blue energy pulse from Wiccan that sweeps over the area fixing everything that was damaged, putting tipped over cars right back where they were, and even fixing torn costumes and leaving them feeling crisp and freshly laundered. As soon as Strange returns to Earth, he finds a car that wasn't just used as a projectile to lean against and slowly exhales. Even with Wiccan easing things considerably by stopping the wheel within wheels, banishing the heavenly host is no mean feat, and had it not been for the reality warper, the residents of the Bronx may very well have had to live in the aftermath of divine justice. The Eye isn't giving off any more than its usual dull glow as it watches the street put itself back together, but Strange himself is more interested in his fellow heroes than Billy's fairly rote mystical procedure. "Thank you all," he says as he looks between the lot of them, his voice full of contrition. "Please accept my apologies for having drawn you into--'this'." He lifts a limp hand to vaguely indicate the street, but Wiccan's spell sort of killed any impact the gesture might have had. Amethyst finds her balance. She walks through the expanding magical fixit wave, completely unchanged. Her clothes are made of sterner stuff than divine fire. They were probably woven by elves or something, and that stuff is always made to last. She observes the rest of the repair job with muted interest. Without realizing it, the princess comes to stop near Strange and lets him do the immediate talking. She absently rubs her bruising, chafed neck while watching Booster put his toys away. "You, um, okay over there, Booster? Typical, um, extra-dimensional incursion, right?" Amethyst calls out. She recognizes the guy spouting heroic cliches and archer man, but it would be impolite to call them heroic cliche guy and archer man. Booster steps away from the smushed car, as it gets popped back into shape by the fixing spell. "This kind of thing happens sometimes, Doctor Strange, don't sweat it. They were pretty unreasonable." He does look a little ruffled, and less prone to smiling than usual, but otherwise if he has any injuries, they are hidden ones. At Amethyst's question, he blinks and says, "Oh... yeah, I'm good. How about you? Looked like you took some lumps in that." Looking around, he says, "Axiom? Wiccan? You dudes okay? And uh..." He points to Roy, silent for a moment before he admits, "We haven't met. Are you okay?" "Just peachy, Golden Boy," Roy comments, dusting himself off as he stands up. "Name's Harper. Codename: Arsenal. Agent of SHIELD." He offers his hand, looking back as things are restored by magic. A low whistle escapes his lips. "Man, that's got to be really handy to have. Wonder if they know love spells too." "S-s-sure," Axiom replies, switching from self-boosting to boosting Wiccan. He'll always put his friends and helping them over helping himself. He leans on the spear as Wiccan repairs things, smiling at his friend's handiwork. "Awesome, Wiccan," he offers his friend a grin and a thumbs up. When Booster calls to him, Axiom looks over. "I'll b-be fine," he chimes. He perks up slightly at Roy's introduction and then leans over to whisper to Wiccan. "That's the g-g-guy Hawkeye mentioned." Wiccan would laugh, so hard, if the Princess did call Axiom Heroic Cliche guy. Both at that, and the inevitable mix of being proud that he is just that and pout that Axiom would give. Maybe she better do this because he could definitely use a laugh right now. Or maybe in a little while. The fix everything good as new if not better spell takes only a few seconds to end, and Wiccan drops back to having his feet on the ground...and then lower only keeping himself from ending up on his knees by leaning on his staff. "Ooof...even boosted that always takes a lot out of me." When Roy speaks up Wiccans head snaps up and gets shaken. "Nope, nu-uh, no way. Love spells always go wrong. Ever see the Buffy episode Bewitched Bothered and Bewildered? Like that, only worse." He does grin at Axiom as he takes a few more deep breaths, yup he is walking home tonight...maybe taking the buss cause he is not sure flight is in the picture for a while. "I know," Gets whispered back, "And...Doctor Strange! Here, fighting...angels..." "Certainly," the Doctor says to Booster, "but it's my task to contain these events, not cause them." After a brief, questioning look at Amethyst, he returns his attention to the man from tomorrow and continues, "Princess Amethyst and I entered Heaven uninvited to search for answers to a--delicate problem, and this was Heaven's response; they do not, as a rule, take kindly to people like us in the Silver City." He shifts his attention to Roy, then, and adds, "If there are any reports that must be filled out..." "It's cool," Amethyst replies, "I, uh, got the guy." She takes a step back when Roy gives his credentials. It's a small step back, but still a physical move away from him. Oh, man, is this the prelude to being arrested? She's not even registered. "I'd rather not," the princess bluntly announces. "Fill out any reports, I mean." She glances up and down the street, extending a hand to make a brief arcane gesture. "We should go. Before anyone shows up. Um, anyone else." Booster shakes Roy's offered hand, saying, "I'm Booster Gold. And uh... love spells are morally unethical anyway." He seems to be getting his usual demeanour back, because he steps back and smiles brightly, saying, "Remember, consent is sexy!" This is followed by a wink and a fingergun, to the gathered heroes in general. "Doctor Strange, is there a chance they might retaliate? I mean that's kind of their thing, right? Righteous smiting." There is a brief stare at Dr. Strange and then Amethyst, before Roy rolls his eyes. "You know what. I'm just gonna file the report, and then leave this to the department of... uh... Occult and stuff and leave it to them to decide what to do. There must be, like, someone who deals with ticked off angels." "I know, he's r-realy awesome. I told you about how he helped out b-before, right?" Axiom whispers some more, fanboying a bit. He'll be walking or taking the bus with Wiccan tonight. Too banged up for rooftop running. "And Wiccan doesn't n-need love spells. He's got a great b-b-boyfriend that likes him because he's a great g-g-guy and an amazing hero and not because of some spell," Axiom adds in with a sagely nod. He gives a shake of his head at the mention of this whole attack being just because of a visit. He's never had the best relationship with the church or religion. No comment on it though. "Y-yeah, we should get going," he agrees, looking to Wiccan. Wiccan blinks slowly and looks at Dr Strange like he just grew a third head, or possibly has an arm growing out of the Eye of Agamotto. "You...and they...and then...oh...oh my. We are so lucky that this...they.." He gestures in the direction of the now pristine street where the Host of Heaven descended. "...are all that came." If it has been Chthon's realm they visited and ticked off the locals it would have been much worse. The Doctor immediately opens his mouth to protest Amy's refusal to do her civil duty, but closes it almost as quickly; the very idea of trying to write about this whole affair in any medium but vellum and ink is, at best, challenging. "Very well," he says to the princess, spreading his arms; motes of blue light begin swirling around him like radiant snow. "I can't say for certain that they won't return," he adds, glancing towards Booster, "but I do believe that they'll be taking some time to consider whether or not we're really worth bothering with; the hosts of Heaven have far more important things to worry about than us. For now, if anyone else needs safe and swift passage home, come close; the Spell of Shamash will take you there." "I think we'd be righteously smote right now if that was the plan," Amethyst says. She lowers her hand, clenching it into a fist as she tries to resist poking at her strangle-wound. "I kind of did some research before we went into this. I'm gonna vote that this was a particular group of angels and not a hit order from the big guy. Then again, maybe I got this totally wrong and we're all in mega danger." The princess shrugs her shoulders and looks at the ground. "Consent is totally sexy, though," she mumbles. She grabs a hold of Strange's shirt. This is way more exhausting than Gemworld junk, where it's always 'yes princess, no princess, good job slaying the rock monsters of death peak, princess.' "Well, if they act up again and you need any help..." Booster Gold touches his wrist bracers and two blue and gold, narrow-format business cards pop out. He offers one each to Doctor Strange and to Amethyst. "My contact information, but if it's an emergency you can tear it across the star and it'll send me a signal. Otherwise, I have to get on with patrolling." He does look rather tired out from the battle, but it seems he is not willing to let that stay him from his rounds. Gesturing towards Wiccan and Axiom, he says, "You guys were awesome." Rising into the air, he casually salutes and says, "Later, dudes." Wiccan gives Doctor Strange a grateful smile. "Thank you, that would definitely be a help." He says before stepping close so that the spell can catch him up and send him off to his home safe and sound without him having to get a bus ride. Eddie just steps up next to Wiccan, nodding along to what he says. He'll definitely appreciate a quick trip home. Category:Log